


Almost Unrequited

by BrighterThanBreakingWaves, Prettywrittencreatures, romans_rapture



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Family Feels, Feels, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Katara is awesome, M/M, THEY HAVE LAST NAMES I'M SORRY, aang likes fruit cups, football player!sokka, iroh owns a boba shop, minor Kataang, momo is a robot, racial and cultural understandings, sokka's truck plays replay, teenage angst, this fic is so close to us AAAA, transfer student!Zuko, tutor buddies!, zukka - Freeform, zuko loves to draw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighterThanBreakingWaves/pseuds/BrighterThanBreakingWaves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettywrittencreatures/pseuds/Prettywrittencreatures, https://archiveofourown.org/users/romans_rapture/pseuds/romans_rapture
Summary: Zuko has never been to public high school a day in his life. He was used to everything around him being the same, falling in line with his sister and under his father's wrath.But Republic City High School is a totally new beast.Coming to a gripping reality with his past and where he's headed, (and also falling head over heels in love with a certain football player), Zuko is caught up in attempts to find his own place in the world.ORIn which Zuko is a transfer student, Sokka is a football player, Katara is student body vice president, Aang is the head of the robotics club, Suki is cheer captain, and Toph believes she has seismic sense, and it's modern-day teenage angst.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I'm not sure exactly what the best place is to start with this note, I don't want to take too long, haha! But, to put it simply, this fic is our baby. We've been brainstorming and headcanoning into the late hours of the morning, in the back of each other's cars until the lights in the parking lot shut off, through notes passed, you name it. 
> 
> Needless to say, Almost Unrequited is very special. 
> 
> If you've come from Tumblr (@/waterboysokka) you know that there has been a true work for us to include as much representation about their cultures within our storyline as there is in the show, regardless of it taking place in the United States. We truly want to make this as close to canon, and also as inclusive and accurate as possible. 
> 
> That being said, if something is out of line, or something is incorrect, PLEASE do not hesitate to let any of us know!!
> 
> We also were too excited to get this fic out to wait any longer, so the first chapter (and most of the second) is what we have so far! We've been working on drafting and editing to make sure that we present the best first chapter we could, and this is what we came up with! 
> 
> *sidenote: HUGE shoutout to Sienna for proofing and editing from an outsider's perspective, you are truly appreciated, I love youuuuu <3
> 
> Alright, this is getting long and rambly, but please, let us know if you enjoyed this! It would mean the world to us! Thank you so much for clicking on this fic :)

_This’ll be good for you._

The words repeated in Zuko’s head over and over again as buildings and people and crowded cars blurred past him, his fingers tapping anxiously against his beaten sketchbook that laid in his lap. It was his comfort more than anything else. He didn’t draw much, nor did he consider himself anywhere near good, but it was the only thing that he considered his escape. 

That, and his uncle. 

“I can tell you’re nervous, nephew,” Iroh, his uncle, said from the driver’s side of the car. Zuko’s mind came reeling back to reality as he flicked his gaze from the towering buildings to him. 

Zuko shrugged, unable to really reply. There was nothing he felt was worth saying. 

“It’s okay.” Zuko breathed a sigh of- relief? Comfort? Nervousness? Maybe all three. He wasn’t sure. He just liked that his uncle was able to make things safe for him. 

That feeling was different from what Zuko had lived with his whole life- it was new. He had always had his uncle, but not in the way he did now. Day in and day out, spent at a safe haven was a much easier life than waking up in the cold mansion forty-five minutes away. 

Zuko watched as the school finally came into view- the first day of school banners plagued the front of the building (even though it had definitely been a couple of weeks since the year had started) in bright and boisterous colors. It read “WELCOME BACK SKY BISON” in an obnoxious font. 

“Uncle, what’s a Sky Bison?” Zuko asked as they pulled into what was considered the drop off lane. 

Iroh laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “I’m not sure.” 

Zuko watched out his window as they passed groups of kids filing out of their cars, others flocking to outside picnic tables or to the front of the school. 

_There were a lot of kids._

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. He had never been to a school that had had this many people- let alone a school that didn’t require uniforms or with kids that he hadn’t known since pre-k. The night before he struggled to pick out an outfit that wouldn't scream ‘new kid’- he didn’t want that kind of attention. He didn’t want any kind of attention for that matter. He just wanted to slide under the radar and pass his junior year. 

He was dizzy with all of the new things that he had been told about finally being relayed in front of his eyes. This is what he had seen in every high school movie, read about in every book. He just hoped that maybe they wouldn’t eat him alive. 

Sooner than he was ready, Iroh’s car stopped dead in front of the school entryway. Teens in cars in front of him and behind him hopped out and collided and clashed into kids that they knew almost immediately. 

He had to get out at some point. 

“Have a good day!” Iroh said to him as he opened the door. “I love you. This is a new start.” 

Zuko smiled at him, one that was his silent ‘thank you’, and shut the door. He kept his sketchbook attached to his side, a white-knuckle grip keeping it in its place. 

He followed the herd inside, side-stepping a multitude of blabbering freshmen and sophomores who were all-too invested in whatever was happening on their phones to watch where they were going. 

His eyes dart around in attempts to catch some sort of reality in the midst of the flood of people. He catches sight of the main office ahead, and quickly recalls the email he had gotten earlier the week: 

_Please report to the front office for schedule pickup and mandatory school tour, given by ambassador_ _KATARA NILAK_ _._

He took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd, his eyes focused on reaching his newfound destination as quickly as humanly possible. He then was almost tossed into the front office by the moving current. Finally catching his feet under him, he stood in the office- a quiet, bored-looking room with windows lined to give a look inside offices, inside the school and outside the building. There were banners welcoming kids back to school, emergency hotline numbers, stickers, and pens in coffee-beans. It was bright because of the colored copying paper that lined the walls and the origami cranes that hung from the ceiling behind the front desk. 

“Are you looking for someone, hun?” The front desk lady asked bluntly, not even bothering to look up from her computer screen. 

Zuko opened his mouth to say something but was ultimately cut off from a voice from behind him. 

“You must be Zuko,” She said, popping up to stand next to him. She was bright- if that could even describe a person. Her posture tall, hands clasped behind her back, and a big grin on her face. Her long dark hair was pulled back away from her face in a clip that he remembered seeing his sister, Azula, wear once or twice. She was dressed in knee-high socks, flats, and a plaid skirt with a white button-up that resembled his old uniform… 

“W-we didn’t have to wear- there’s a uniform?” Zuko began to panic. He hadn’t been paying attention to anyone else coming into the building to see- 

The girl just gave him a quizzical look with one raised eyebrow and shook her head. “No… ?” 

“Oh,” Zuko muttered, his face heating up. 

_Calm down._

Her face eased into an effortless giggle as if she could read how he was feeling. “Well, I’m Katara Nilak- Republic City High School Ambassador, mock trial team captain, student body vice president, and most importantly, the slated valedictorian for this year’s junior class.” 

She stuck her hand out in front of him with a confidence he had never seen exuded from anyone except for his sister. She had obviously practiced that information a plethora of times and was more than comfortable in her abilities as a leader. But as much confidence as she had, she had a feeling of warmth and level-headedness that allowed Zuko to feel more comfortable with her than he would have thought. _That_ was something his sister didn’t possess.

He returned a smile as he shook her hand. That was the one thing that he could thank his dad for; a good handshake. 

“I’m Zuko,” He said, his voice the most steady it had been all morning. 

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?” She said as she pushed open the doors to the now much less crowded and much less anxiety-ridden hallways of the school. She walked backward in front of him and held her hands out wide as if she was welcoming him into a big arena to fight a gladiator. 

But she wasn’t. This was still high school. 

“Welcome to Republic City High School, home of the sky bison. No, we have no idea what it is, but we say it proudly at football games anyways.” 

Zuko glanced up and down the hallways, now able to see more of it since it had been cleared out. Katara joined him by his side again and began to point things out. 

He mentally took note of where everything was- the gym was down to the far left, the cafeteria was straight ahead. The stairs that are the _least_ crowded were on the opposite ends of the school. He didn’t say much while Katara led him through the building unless she asked questions, which he didn’t mind. He kind of liked her just talking. 

Every time he thought the school had ended, there would be another hidden hallway. He was sure that they weren’t even halfway through the school at this rate. Katara had led them this time down one beside the gym. 

“Down this hallway,” Katara began, “Is the weight room and training center. Our football team, if you didn’t know, is actually pretty good and-” 

The doors in front of them flew open and out walked a slew of tall, fit, and sweaty boys, all wearing the exact same shirt that read _RCHS FOOTBALL_ with a small outline of what he presumed to be a sky bison on it. They all were laughing and collided like bumper cars against each other, totally oblivious to Zuko and Katara who were standing beside the entrance. Zuko caught a glimpse of Katara’s face, which was now in a rather annoyed look. 

“Katara!” A voice sang in front of him. Zuko shot his eyes over to the culprit- a tall, fit, tanned boy with freckles dotting the bridge of his nose faintly, his dark hair falling into his face, drenched in sweat. His deep blue eyes had a mischievous look in them and a smirk sat promptly on his face. He had his arms wrapped around Katara and squeezed her into a tight hug from the back.

Zuko could have sworn that he stopped breathing. 

Katara, who was clearly unamused by whoever this was, whipped around to face him. “You’re interrupting something.” 

He raised his eyebrows in a way that exuded similar confidence of Katara, but in a much _much_ different way. 

“Who’s this?” He asked, his head tilting slightly up, shifting his gaze over Katara’s head to meet eyes with Zuko. Zuko snapped his eyes down to his sketchbook, which was still locked squarely against his side, and fidgeted with the frayed black canvas cover as a scapegoat. He knew he had been staring, and he just _prayed_ that his face wasn’t as beet red as it most definitely felt. 

“This is Zuko, a new student I’m giving a tour to,” Katara interjected, almost as a way to save herself the embarrassment of having to watch whoever this was, interact with him. Zuko, with a wave of confidence and intrigue towards the boy, glanced up from the spot on the floor where his eyes had been glued and gave a small smile. It felt awkward and forced, even when he didn’t want it to. 

His smile just didn’t flow as easily as everyone else’s here seemed to, and at that point, he was sure he had made it blatantly obvious. 

The boy broke out into a grin- boyish and definitely bordered on annoyance, but had a feeling of warmth, similar to Katara’s. “The name’s Sokka, and-” 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough hot stuff. You need to shower.” Katara shook her head and huffed a sigh as she continually pushed him farther away from them and closer to his teammates down the hallway. 

“Okay! I’m going!” Zuko heard him call out to her with a laugh. 

Zuko watched as he glanced back over his shoulder and gave a reassuring flash of a smile to him. Zuko’s eyes averted to his sketchbook again. 

“Your boyfriend seems really… nice,” Zuko said, definitively deciding that it was the _only_ logical explanation for the relationship and dynamic between the two. 

Zuko had clearly made the wrong assumption because Katara’s face contorted from annoyance to disgust and a hint of shock within a matter of seconds. Zuko’s eyes went wide and he glanced away again, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sokka? You think he’s- Oh no, he’s just my idiot brother,” Katara replied with a laugh. Zuko felt a wave of relief wash over him. 

“Oh,” Zuko muttered and tacked on a small ‘heh’ at the end to hopefully mask some of his awkwardness. 

They _did_ look like siblings, he guessed, but he hadn’t ever seen siblings interact like that before. 

Another voice rang down the hallway, pattering footsteps accompanied with them. “Katara, Katara, Katara!” 

Zuko turned around and watched as a lanky boy ran towards them, his collared shirt only halfway buttoned up and partially tucked in. Zuko looked beside him as Katara’s face broke out into a smile and a faint pink dust appeared on her cheeks. 

“ _That’s_ my boyfriend,” She clarified, an elatedness in her voice. 

Zuko looked back at the boy, who sported black-rimmed glasses (which were planted on his head, surrounded by a mess of brown hair). He wore khakis partially rolled up at the bottoms and low-top converse sneakers to match. With the dishevelment of his hair, Zuko almost didn’t notice the blue ink that was on his forehead in the shape of an arrow. Katara didn’t seem to be bothered by it, so he wasn’t either. He had a square-looking, wire infested _thing_ tucked under his arm in a similar way he held his sketchbook. 

“Zuko, this is Aang. Aang, this is Zuko, the new kid I’m touring around today,” Katara explained. Aang turned to him, his eyes big and bold and happy. He smiled and stuck his hand up for a high five. 

_This was new_. 

Zuko hesitantly reached up and smacked it back, unsure of really what other route to take. Aang gave him a nod of approval. “Glad I didn’t have to ask you. It’s always awkward when you ask for high-fives,” Aang explained. 

Zuko chuckled a little- his nerves more eased then he thought they’d be by the high-fiving whirlwind that had come tumbling in. 

“Whatcha doing to M.O.M.O., babe?” Katara asked and gestured to the small thing under his arm. 

“Oh! Look at this, Katara! Look what I programmed him to do!” Aang excitedly set him down, fished out the small piece of paper in his pocket, and fed it through the back of the lemur-Esque-designed robot. 

Aang’s eyes bounced excitedly back and forth between his invention and his girlfriend as it began to feed through the paper, spitting it out of the lemur’s mouth and onto the floor. Aang picked it up and held it proudly in his palm like a delicate butterfly wing and showed it to them. 

Zuko’s eyebrow raised slightly as he tried to figure out what the numbers written on the paper were _supposed_ to mean. 

“It’s the quadratic formula, but you can code it to do all kinds of math things. I just added in a few more things today- is it cool or what?” Aang plucked up his invention off of the ground and held it under his arm just as he had held it when he showed up. 

“I love it,” Katara said, and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Aang then said a quick goodbye and went down the hallway where Sokka had gone earlier, taking off in sprinting speed. Zuko wasn’t quite sure why he did that with a fragile-looking invention under his arm, but Aang seemed to know what he was doing. 

“So,” Katara began, “You like to draw, I assume?” 

They had been taking their time walking around the rest of the hallways they apparently had left, and Zuko let Katara talk about anything and everything she found remotely interesting. They had skipped the first two of their classes so that Katara could show him the school in full length, which apparently was something that happened a lot. 

He was sure that they _had_ to be nearing the end of their tour soon, and he was getting incredibly hungry. Katara had asked him a couple more questions, and he didn’t mind answering them. She listened with intent and nodded her head after every sentence as if to remind him that she was listening and to keep going. Zuko liked that, too. 

“Yeah,” Zuko replied. “Sometimes.” 

He had finally released some of the tension in his notebook. His hand and knuckles still ached and burned from the tension he constantly kept on them for about an hour or so. It hadn't been the first time he had done something like that, so he was used to it, but it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. 

“Then I have something exciting to show you, c’mere!”Katara grabbed his wrist and dragged him past two double doors and into the last of the hidden hallways. This one was covered in pastels and primary colors across the walls and ceiling. Murals of trees and metaphors that he wanted to dissect flooded his vision. There were classrooms with full open windows, revealing a multitude of art students who sat quietly, working on paintings or sketches themselves. There were fashion students to his left, sewing and piecing together fabrics. 

He was speechless. Never had he seen something that was this… this _free_. 

Zuko was used to the rigid, hard line of conformity and control over creativity. He was used to uniform and judgment, and fear. There was no fear here. The corners of his mouth upturned slightly as he took in everything that surrounded the hallway. 

“Gorgeous, right?” Katara said, her arms in a fold across her chest as her gaze followed the acrylics scattered on the walls. 

Zuko nodded. “How are you allowed to do this?” 

“Our principal believes in the expression of freedom and happiness,” Katara replied with a shrug. “The art students are allowed to make this look however they want. Every time I come down here, it’s always a new adventure.” 

Zuko could have stood there for years, taking in every little flick of the brush, and every switch in texture and medium that sat on the walls. He was pulled out of his trance when the bell rang, and the hallways almost immediately began to become flooded with kids again. Zuko was brought back down from his time in the clouds and his panic was ensued once more by the multitude of people. He felt Katara grab his hand and lead him through the crowd herself, forthright and fearless- it seemed to be how she did things. 

She dragged him off to the side where the traffic didn’t blur his vision. “It’s lunch now. If you’d like, you can sit with my friends and me.” 

Zuko noticed how she had to border shouting to get her question across like they were in the middle of a concert. So, instead of trying to reply with everything else that was happening, Zuko nodded as a form of reply. Her lips quickly formed an eager grin and she pulled his hand back into the sea again, leading him against the current to the lunchroom- Zuko remembered she had pointed it out earlier. 

Within an instant, they were standing in a moderately crowded lunchroom. Everyone seemed to keep to their own, and tables were filled with all different kinds of people. 

“Just a fair warning, my friends are interesting,” Katara said, her voice now to her normal volume. “They’ve scared off a couple of people I’ve invited to eat lunch with us. If you don’t like them, that’s completely okay- I can lead you to the library.” 

Zuko gulped but nodded nonetheless. He wasn’t worried about her friends before, but he also knew that he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, so he just hoped that he could sit and just at least look like he was being included. That was enough for him. 

As he followed Katara over to her lunch table, which just was occupied by Aang, which he remembered was her boyfriend, he thought back to Sokka, her brother, and his heart leaped. It was easy for him to get his hopes up to have the football player sit with them, but he had the moment from this morning replaying in his head over and over again. 

Aang gave Zuko a cheery wave and moved his backpack from the seat next to him as a place for Zuko, which Zuko took. 

“Zuko! Welcome to the lunch table,” Aang said brightly. 

“T-thanks,” Zuko replied, unsure of how else to show his grace for letting him crash their table. 

“Mhm,” Aang said. “Hey, Katara, do you have the blue toothpicks with you? You packed red this morning by accident, and you know I like to eat my mandrin oranges with the _blue_ toothpicks-” 

Katara rolled her eyes and handed over a case of bright blue toothpicks to her boyfriend and laughed. This was apparently a regular occurrence by how quickly the problem was solved, Zuko just couldn’t figure out what. 

Apparently, the quizzical look on his face gave him up. “I pack Aang’s lunch, and he likes to eat fruit cups with toothpicks… specific ones.” 

“Yup! It makes them taste better, I swear,” Aang replied, skewing three oranges at a time onto the toothpick to inhale them as quickly as possible. 

Zuko jumped at the slam of the tray down across from him. A petite girl with jet black hair up in two buns took a seat next to Katara, a dissatisfied look scrawled all over her face. She pulled apart a long, white seeing stick and folded it compactly and dropped it in Katara’s lap. This, again, seemed to be in order, because no one asked or even remotely paid any attention to it. 

“Katara, I swear to fucking god I have seismic sense-” the girl began, and slid her pristine L.L Bean lunchbox across the table to Aang, who’s face lit up as he unzipped it and pulled out another fruit cup from her lunchbox. 

“Toph, that’s so unrealistic. You can’t have seismic sense-”

“Oh, why? Because I’m blind? If I didn’t have seismic sense how the hell could I tell you that there’s a super awkwardly looking prepubescent teenage boy sitting across from me who’s anxiety is through the goddamn roof right now.” 

Zuko’s eyes went wide and he looked down at his lunchbox to avert his attention. 

“What- Okay, I don’t know how you got that,” Katara said with the shake of her head. “But this is Zuko, he’s a junior, and he’s new, so I decided to invite him to eat with us.”

Zuko could have sworn he heard Katara whisper ‘be nice, please’ to her friend, who he had concluded was named Toph. 

“Katara, I don’t have to do what you tell me, you’re not my mom.” 

Zuko glanced up to see Katara with her head in her hands, clearly frustrated by Toph. Toph, however, seemed to be unfazed by Katara’s attitude and was calmly eating her burger and fries. He wasn’t sure why she ordered food if she seemed to have a pretty packed lunch (from what he saw Aang pull from his peripheral vision), but he wasn’t about to ask. 

“Well, Zuko, this is Toph. She’s a sophomore, like Aang. She’s bl-” 

“Badass. I’m badass. Blind, too, maybe, but I have a theory about that one,” Toph jutted in and smirked. 

“She also manages the football team with me!” Aang added. “Well, she did it as a dare, but now we do it together and we travel with them… it’s fun!”

Zuko nodded to acknowledge that he was keeping up with the conversation. He did wonder how that worked, though- a blind girl and robotics club president managed to help run the football team. It had seemed to shift from one topic to another pretty effortlessly- like what Aang was going to do about the next robotics meet, Toph’s count of people she had tripped since the day had started with her walking-stick, or what Katara was going to do about the mock trial team (they seemed to be struggling, by the sounds of it). 

Halfway through lunch, Zuko’s mind began to wander back to Sokka. Did he even sit with them at lunch? There had been mentions of him in conversation here and there, but no one seemed to wonder where he was. 

But as if it were fate, Sokka appeared and took a seat next to Aang, slinging his backpack over the back of the chair. His hair was up now, and Zuko took note of the fact that he had the sides shaved. He was dressed now in a tee shirt and joggers and his bright blue letterman jacket- something simple, but somehow he wore it better than anyone Zuko had ever seen before. His smile played along his lips like it hadn’t left all day. It was infectious, too, and made Zuko feel like smiling along with him.

He was accompanied by a redhead with short hair, tied in a half-up and sported a heavy red eyeliner. She was dressed in greens and greys, but in unique patterns with funky jewelry. Zuko noted the pen marks all over her hands and the black nail polish that was chipped and she seemed to have as a part of her attire as well. 

“Sorry we’re late, Kyoshi and Roku kept us overtime for that meeting about the game this weekend,” the girl explained, her voice bubbly and positive- it seemed to contrast from her ‘badass’ exterior that she exuded. 

Her eyes traveled up from her lunch to around the table, her eyes landing on Zuko. She broke out into a grin. “Hi! I didn’t know someone new was going to eat with us! I’m Suki.” 

She gave him a wave as a sign of greeting- it was quick but pleasant and deliberate- like she wanted to make sure that she acknowledged him, and just him before she began talking to anyone else. He felt joy swell in his chest from his easy welcome into their group, at least for the day.

He was still unsure of Toph and was still somewhat scared of her, but he hoped that would change. She did seem really cool- actually, all of them did. They all seemed to exude a confidence that he just _didn’t_ have. Although, so far, Zuko hadn’t felt out of place with anyone in the group, not even a little bit. 

“Zuko? Like from this morning?” He heard Sokka say from beside Aang. His eyes shot up and he looked across, past Aang. Sokka leaned forward across the table and gave him a warm wave. “What’s up, dude!”

Zuko felt happiness flood all over his body as he tugged at the hem of his shirt to keep his nerves down. Sokka seemed to remember him, and that was the greatest feat of all. No one ever remembered him, especially not guys he thought were attractive- _especially_ not guys like Sokka. 

Usually, guys like Sokka didn’t even know his name. They overlooked him in crowds, they walked around him as if he were a ghost. But Sokka seemed different. 

Zuko had also noticed that they didn’t look at him weirdly for his scar, or even ask about it, which Zuko was thankful for. There had been only a few times where it hadn’t been the center of conversations. 

“Where are you going next, Zuko?” Suki asked, snapping his attention back to reality once again. 

“Oh, uh-” Zuko pulled out the crumpled schedule he had printed off last night from his pocket and scanned it for the corresponding class. He internally groaned as he read it. “AP calculus.” 

“Wait, AP calc?” Sokka said, leaning across the table again to make sure that he was looking at Zuko whenever he talked. Zuko, as much as he wanted to, couldn’t hold his gaze with Sokka’s. 

Zuko nodded in reply. Sokka extended his arm across Aang’s lunch-turned-feast, and Zuko handed it to him. 

“I think…” Sokka said as he scanned the schedule. “Yep, we’re in the same class. You can walk with me.” 

Zuko smiled warmly as Sokka handed him back his schedule. Zuko stared at it for a minute before shoving it back into his pocket for safe-keeping. 

The rest of lunch passed pretty effortlessly- Zuko picked up on a couple of things, too, like how Suki was cheer team captain, or how Aang seemed to spend the majority of his time at Katara and Sokka’s house. He liked listening. 

“Alrighty,” Sokka said, and hoisted his backpack onto his back. “You ready to go, Zuko?” 

Zuko glanced at him and gave him a brief nod in fear that too much eye contact would be weird. God, this guy could make him overthink _everything_ and he’d known him for less than a day. 

He packed up his bag and his lunch, which was courtesy of his Uncle, and made sure to swipe his sketchbook off of the table before anyone had the chance to accidentally see what was inside of it. 

They- well, Sokka- said goodbye to the table, who seemed to be clearing up on their own anyway, and left out into the empty hallway. 

Surprisingly enough, the class was almost a door or two down the first hallway next to the cafeteria. Zuko, although just making awkward small talk with Sokka, wondered if this would become normal- if he would walk with him every day. He wished that the walk was longer, or that he got to talk to him more instead of nodding or shaking his head as replies, but Zuko was easily a stammering mess in general, and adding a pretty boy in the mix didn’t exactly help. 

Sokka didn’t mind, he just talked and chuckled. There wasn’t much time for conversation before they entered the AP calculus world, where Zuko was hit with the depressing realization that he’d have to somehow learn math- and pass it. 

The blunt fact of the matter was that Zuko had never been good at math. It was his father that put him in the math classes way above his achievement level because he didn’t want Zuko to make a fool of him. 

Sokka slid easily into the first seat in the middle row, center of the class. He turned to Zuko, who still stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

“You can sit here.” Sokka gestured to the desk behind him and smiled. “No one sits there.” 

“Okay,” Zuko replied and slid into the seat behind Sokka. Sokka whipped around almost immediately and straddled the chair to where he was facing Zuko. 

“Just a heads up, the teacher is kind of an asshat, but other than that it’s not too bad,” Sokka informed him. “There are guys in here that I know who are pretty cool, too, so that makes it better.” 

“Is there a reason you chose the front and center desk?” Zuko asked, his curiosity overcoming his sweaty palms and racing heart that seemed to be accompanied not only by public school but Sokka Nilak. 

Sokka shrugged, a hint of cockiness relayed into it. “I like to think I’m good at math.” 

_Wow, am I going to make a fool of myself here_? Zuko thought. 

But instead of saying anything remotely close to what he was thinking, Zuko nodded, and settled with, “That’s cool.” 

Sokka’s attention was torn from Zuko when three boys entered, all wearing the matching set of letterman jackets to match Sokka’s. Zuko quickly deducted that they were football players by the obvious amount of expression. His heart sank slightly knowing that he’d have to somehow keep Sokka’s attention so that he didn’t become overlooked by his football friends. 

All conversation ceased pretty quickly once an elderly woman walked into the room and shut the door. Zuko assumed that this was the ‘asshat teacher’ Sokka was referring to. He just hoped that whatever asshat meant, it meant that he wouldn’t be singled out. He couldn’t handle any more of that. 

She introduced herself to the class, which was apparently something she did every day by the football team members mocking her subtly from behind him. She then passed out the notes and a packet of homework for the day. Zuko’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pages quickly. 

He had no fucking idea how to do any of this. 

As the lesson began, Zuko tried to keep up with her rather fast teaching pace. He watched as Sokka had his head buried in his notes, and would occasionally ask questions that Zuko couldn’t even begin to try and understand what they were about. 

He was totally fucked. Majorly, royally, fucked. And all because his stupid father wouldn’t put him in lower math- one that he could understand. Not a single word that the teacher had said all lesson clicked with him. He attempted to scribble notes down as quickly as he could, hoping that somehow he could dissect this on his own later with the help of youtube videos. 

Her lesson ran the entirety of the class period, and he had until the end of the week to complete the seemingly endless packet. Zuko rubbed his face out of frustration. He waited until the majority of the kids had left to then approach this teacher and ask her about what to do because if he knew one thing, he knew that if he sat here and didn’t say a single word, he would end up failing the class- not with a grade at all, but a giant zero. 

“Hello, uh, I’m Zuko. I just transferred in, and I’m really lost with everything,” Zuko explained. He shoved his hands in his pockets as a way to keep them from fidgeting from other things like his backpack straps or the edge of his shirt. “I-is there anything you have to help?”

“Okay, well…” She paused for a minute and tapped her long and wrinkled finger against her chin. “Sokka needs tutoring hours to pass the class, so he can help you.”

Sokka, an earbud in one ear and the other slung around his neck, backpack hanging off one shoulder and halfway out of the room, turned on his heels. “I can?” 

Zuko’s cheeks heated and he felt his anxiety kick back in. There was no way this was real- no way that this was happening. 

The lady gave him a dull stare as a reply and handed over a course review to Zuko. Just another packet to add to his stack. “Sokka’ll hopefully help you get caught up to speed. He’s the top student in the class, so he _should_ be able to help you.”

“I can,” Sokka clarified from his previous answer and stepped beside Zuko. He had a sly look of confidence written all over his face, which Zuko took was from the validation- even as offhanded as it was. 

The teacher gave Zuko some other review packets, which he tried not to groan aloud about. There were so many pages and so much work. He’d never be caught up- _especially_ if his tutor was Sokka. The teacher quickly ushered the two of them out of her room, which was because she apparently had to get ready for her next class, and couldn’t let the two of them leisurely hang around in her classroom (although he didn’t think that neither himself nor Sokka was planning on doing that). 

“Thank you,” Zuko muttered as they left the class. Sokka, who he didn’t expect to catch it, turned around and gave him yet another warm smile. 

“No problem, dude,” He replied, his voice about the same level as Zuko’s. It was a surprise for him to hear it over the crowd of people that passed every which way, but he did. As soon as the moment had come, though, the moment was gone. Sokka was halfway down the hallway now, whisked away by some other football players who had seen him and snatched him up. 

Boy, could he get used to those smiles. 

The rest of his classes following AP Calc were boring, which was to be expected. What the real challenge had been was finding his way out of the school to sit and wait for his uncle to pick him up.

He had finally made it outside- to his relief- and found a vacant spot near a tree, which he dropped his bag at and sat down against. He had some kind of music playing but was only half listening. It was his ‘cool down’ playlist, which he used to keep himself calm during stressful or new situations. It was something he had implemented a couple of years back when his anxiety started to beat him the majority of the time. 

He scanned the sea of people, his eyes landing on one or two friends who were giggling at something on their phones, or another pair of siblings who were about to have it out in the middle of the courtyard. There were groups of friends who all laid together and picked daisies and two little freshman boys who sat and played on their game consoles, not communicating. 

There were a lot of different people here. And he liked that- he liked that a lot. It wasn’t like that at his last school. It was refreshing and reminded him of how he felt in the art hallway- free. This was a new beginning, away from his dad, from his sister, from all of it. He could finally be himself and not have to apologize for it- that’s what his uncle said, at least. Zuko hoped that he was right. 

His eyes eventually landed on the group he had been with earlier today, laughing at something someone had said. Aang still had his robot tucked under his arm, Toph seemed to be out for ankles with her white stick, Katara’s hands were full of books and ziplock baggies in crates, and Sokka seemed to swing a pair of keys around his finger wildly. 

Zuko smiled at them and bit his lip. How unapologetic they seemed. How real. He just hoped that maybe he wouldn’t fuck it up. 

His gaze followed them as Sokka hopped into the driver’s side of a beat-up, old blue pickup truck, and the rest of the group piled in behind him. They had yet to stop laughing at whatever it had been, and Zuko wished that he could have been a part of whatever joke they had made. 

As they pulled out of the parking lot, though, Zuko’s eyes fixated on Sokka, his body relaxed as he fell easily into the motions of the car, one hand on the wheel and the other out of view. He had taken off his letterman jacket, now only in a white t-shirt. He threw his head back in a laugh and slapped someone sitting across from him, who he could only assume was either Katara or Aang. 

He felt his cheeks heat again for what seemed like the _millionth_ time. He shook his head, and took out his calc homework, in hopes to start dissecting it, and maybe to get a better understanding so he didn’t look like a complete fool in front of Sokka- if he actually was serious about tutoring him. 

His mind turned back into his music as he hummed the piano melody. He relived through the moments again and again with Sokka, focusing on the deep blue of his eyes, or the light mess of freckles on his cheeks, or his perfect and easy smile. 

Zuko wasn’t focusing on AP Calc anymore. He had begun a rough sketch of a boy, who ultimately turned into Sokka. He flushed his cheeks dark with the hardness of his pencil, making sure to capture whatever he could remember from his face onto the top corner of his homework. 

He may hate calculus, but for the first time, he was looking forward to it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty boys and Tea shops :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH!! Hello! So so SO sorry it's been literally forever since the first chapter! I actually ended up (attempting) to do NaNoWriMo, and I planned to hyperfocus on that throughout November, which pushed off this project significantly! I hope you all are still excited for this chapter of AU nonetheless! I'm hoping that we can get on an updated schedule that allows us to post chapters every other week, that way you guys won't have to wait as long :) 
> 
> If you want updates on this fic before it comes out, I put random Tumblr posts up whenever I'm writing or what my projected date is to post it on @/waterboysokka on Tumblr! Go check me out there if you want some updates or to hear about the play by play of this fic before it's up, haha! 
> 
> Again, thank you to Sienna for being an extra editor to read through this chapter and give us some edits! Definitely appreciated (I love u sm)

When Zuko had crumpled into the car that afternoon, his uncle was full of questions- he could tell. Iroh always loved to know what was happening in Zuko’s life. He never asked them, though, not until he knew that Zuko was ready to answer. Zuko could see it in his uncle’s eyes when he opened the door to get in.

So, they stuck to the basics. 

“How was it?” 

“Good. It was good.” 

“And math…?”

“Math is hard, but I have a tutor now, Uncle.”

“Ah, I see.” 

They small talked back and forth for a while. There was a period of time when Zuko used to get angry and lash out at the questions he asked, but he hadn’t been like that in what seemed like forever. He still felt the heat rise to his cheeks when his uncle asked about certain things, knowing that he was hunting for other answers, picking his brain for things that Zuko liked to keep buried. But, Iroh had learned a long time ago to respect Zuko’s boundaries, and it had worked well for both of them. Zuko had, over time, let up some, and Iroh didn’t force him to. 

As they turned out of the school, Zuko leaned up against the window as he watched buildings speed past. It wasn’t too far to the Jasmine Dragon, his Uncle’s Boba Tea and Coffee shop that he had opened only a few years back. It was surprisingly close to the parking garage- walking distance, if Zuko calculated correctly. 

This was good, and bad. Zuko loved working for his uncle, especially since his uncle tied his shop so close to their Asian roots, but it was always just  _ slightly  _ embarrassing when people you knew came in to find you working at your Uncle’s tea shop. 

Not to mention, these were all kids that he went to school with now. He hadn’t worked there all  _ that _ long, maybe at the most three weeks, but it was enough for him to know that he couldn’t avoid the avid amount of RCHS students he would see milling around after school. 

Which made it all the more embarrassing. 

“Uncle?” Zuko asked as he leaned up from his spot looking out the window. Iroh raised one eyebrow and quirked up the corners of his lips as an inquiry. 

“C-can I work in the kitchen? I just… don’t feel like serving people today,” Zuko said, hoping that his partial-lie could get him out of his job. He didn’t mind serving people, but the last thing he needed was for him to run into kids he had seen in the halls today who had already looked at him weird due to his scar- the looks were only enhanced, though, by his Uncle’s ethnically cultured asian tea shop. 

Sometimes it was easier to blend into the background with everyone around you than attempt to stand out- he knew this well enough, and it had only become more of an implication whenever kids would ask him questions about why he wasn’t in an advanced math class if he was Asian. 

Iroh snorted a laugh. “Zuko, I would let you if you knew how to make good tea.” He shook his head and steadily eased his way to turn into the parking garage behind the building. There were a couple things down this street, and it was a pretty quaint and pretty perfect area for Iroh’s shop- at least Zuko thought so. There were vines that climbed the sides of the buildings to make it feel less like an industrial jungle, and many outdoor bistros that were always packed with families and kids playing hopscotch outside or drawing with chalk. City life hadn’t ever really been something his Uncle had wanted, but had moreover stumbled upon. This part of town, though, seemed to be his scapegoat out of the hustle and bustle of everything. 

He could have figured that his uncle was going to say that. Zuko had attempted the tea making skill the first day he had moved in with him. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone very well. Zuko thought it was fine, but Iroh had a different opinion about it. It had become apparent pretty quickly that Zuko’s best skills were on his feet and  _ away  _ from any kind of boiling or bubbling liquid. 

Iroh put his car in park and the pair climbed out, Zuko making sure to grab his sketchbook and his backpack on the way out. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he was able to squeeze in a quick sketch of a couple laughing over a text. He brought the backpack mostly for show, rarely did he ever pull out his textbooks or notebooks to do homework. 

A flutter rose in his chest as he thought about AP calc- not the math, obviously, but  _ Sokka _ . He was almost positive that this day was just a fever dream and he’d walk in tomorrow with no one to sit with at lunch and no really adorable tutor. It wasn’t his luck for things to go that well for him, especially on the first day. It was unheard of for Zuko to ever be the kid who sits in the lunchroom with people and actually has  _ friends _ . 

Man, if his sister saw him now. 

Zuko hurried and caught stride alongside his uncle. He was a stout man, coming up to Zuko’s shoulder. He dressed in layers of green floral button downs, and khaki shorts. If you looked at him, you would see the  _ ultimate  _ tourist. He had lived here for over twenty years, but somehow still managed to look like he had never stepped foot in the country until twenty minutes prior. Zuko, on many occasions, had asked him why he dressed like this, and he had replied with a simple shrug and, “I just like it.” 

Zuko was moderately envious of his uncle’s easy going lifestyle, and his ability to let up and dress however he wanted to without the fear of being judged. He knew that his uncle did it for a different reason than his father did, though. His father wore expensive suits and tailored dress pants to  _ hide  _ his culture, his uncle did it because it expressed him in the way that no other clothes could. 

Iroh leads the way, a bounce in his step as he reached the quaint sign of the tea shop, which hung off the side with a gorgeous brass dragon climbing up the side of the words. Truly, his uncle had done a remarkable job with everything that went into the Jasmine Dragon, and it paid off tenfold. The amount of joy and elatedness that he saw in his uncle’s eyes every time the embossed sign came into view was something that Zuko would probably never get tired of. 

They dipped behind the alleyway to enter through the kitchen- there was already a line of kids out the door waiting to get their hands on his drinks. He, luckily, hadn’t spotted anyone that he knew- or any of his newfound friends- on his way in, which helped the anxiety in his chest ease more. 

The kitchen of the tea shop was as busy as ever, workers buzzing like bees around each other, snatching orders off of their clothesline system that Iroh had implemented once he couldn’t be at the shop full time anymore. It was a great way to keep the pace fast, and everyone on track. ‘Everyone’ was Iroh, Zuko and two other workers who were friends of Iroh’s for as long as Zuko could remember. 

“Busy today?” Iroh asked, a smile tugged at his lips. 

The lady, June, let a laugh escape from her lips and shook her head. “You say that like this isn’t the usual crowd.” 

June was a mysterious, dark haired woman- one that Zuko had never quite understood, but knew that she was good to catch his offhanded comments and banter with him if they were both in the mood. Sure, he  _ had  _ known June for a long time, but there wasn’t too much about her that he truly understood, though June had made it pretty clear that she liked it that way. 

“I know, I know,” Iroh jested, “I’m just messing with you.”

He pulled the last two deep green aprons off of the hook and tossed one to Zuko who fumbled the catch due to his insane ability to zone out. Anything that was tossed his way would usually provoke some kind of defensive action, which he had deducted was a learned trait. 

Within a matter of seconds, Zuko was prompted through the double curtain opening and plopped right in front of the register. He felt as if he were on a stage, like there was some kind of act he was to put on and there was a spotlight on him- like he had lines to remember and he wasn’t ready for it. 

A few deep breaths and the hum of his subtle piano music pulled him out of his head and back to the bouncing ‘JASMINE DRAGON!’ logo on the screen in front of him. He itched for his earbuds, something that drowned out the teenage girls squealing at texts from a boy, or the soccer team making snide comments about the length of the girl’s shorts. 

“Hi, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon,” Zuko said, his voice clear and steady. It was like a magic trick, truthfully- his voice. His ability to create clear and at least understandable conversation had come from his father, who had dragged him to enough corporation functions and clapped his hand over his back too many times for him to forget the set of skills. 

The clap was hard, and usually knocked the wind out of him. If he didn’t conversate enough, it was on his face instead of his back, and that was  _ much  _ worse. 

The girl with a surprising southern drawl ordered four boba teas- for her friends and their study date later, as she had informed him. He had merely nodded along in reply, there wasn’t much else he felt like he could contribute. 

As the line started to file in, the more Zuko began to zone out with work. He hand wrote the order, put it on a hanger, slid it to the back, and checked out the customer- whether it be the soccer team’s most misogynistic men or barley teenage girls, they all began to become one giant blob. 

“Katara! Here- gimme that- hey!” 

Zuko’s eyes shot up from the paper he was scribbling the order messily on, and darted around the room. 

_ Fuck, shit, shit, fuck.  _

Almost immediately, his eyes caught Sokka- a playful scowl on his face as he wrestled around Katara’s body in attempts to take back what was held hostage, which was by the looks of it, his phone. Toph stood to the side of Sokka, her free hand anchored in his belt loop- by the smirking grin on her face, she knew that if he jumped any higher atop his sister, his pants would probably be coming down, too. Aang stood to the opposite side of Katara, his hands full of his invention, MOMO, and his tongue stuck out slyly to the side in a face of focus. Suki was behind them he realized, and she was talking to a couple of girls he didn’t recognize, but assumed were probably on the cheer team due to the process of elimination. 

“Can I remove my card?” The man in front of him asked, his face in an unamused look. 

“Oh- yes, sorry,” Zuko apologized quickly. The man’s receipt couldn’t have printed any slower, and as soon as it did, he tore it off and shoved it at him. He backed through the curtains and into the kitchen and almost fell right into his uncle, who gave him a quizzical and partially amused look. 

“I can’t work at the register.” 

“Hmm,” Uncle Iroh peered out of the curtains and glanced back at Zuko, a laugh escaping from his lips. He could read Zuko like a book, and almost instantaneously was able to pick up on exactly what he was saying. “It’s the boy, isn’t it.” 

“M-maybe,” Zuko replied, his hands steadying him against the cool stainless steel countertop behind him. He could feel his face begin to heat up again. It was weird talking about boys with his uncle. Actually, it made him want to vomit. 

“Well, we have no other register workers, you know this,” Iroh teased, and bumped him against the shoulder playfully. “And the line has stalled…” 

“Why can’t you do it?” Zuko groaned, and tossed his head back- dramatacism was something that his Uncle always harped on with him, but this was a dire time for him to use it. 

“Nobody wants to talk to an old man like me,” Iroh said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now you, nephew, are a  _ catch _ .” 

“Uncle-”

“Now go.” Iroh hurriedly sweeped Zuko back to the counter, and pulled the curtains taught behind him so he couldn’t leave. 

_ Great.  _

Really left with no other choices, he served the next person in line, and the next and the next. They were around three orders or so away from the counter whenever Sokka locked eyes with Zuko. 

A grin spread across his face, his bright eyes lighting up. He gave a hefty wave towards Zuko and yanked his sister- who was busy indulging in conversation with Aang- by the collar of her blazer to get a glimpse of Zuko. 

_ Now this was embarrassing _ . 

Zuko’s rib cage filled with butterflies as he looked at Sokka, he gave a small wave, just to ensure not to draw more attention to himself than was necessary. He quickly brought his attention back down to the register and attempted to fill out the next three orders without messing up as he focused on the group growing ever increasingly closer. 

He wondered if this was a normal reaction to human interaction with people who liked him, or if he had developed this from his void of anything remotely similar for the majority of his life. 

_ Calm down,  _ Zuko reminded himself as he watched them approach the counter.  _ They could leave just as soon as they came if you aren’t careful _ . 

“Zuko!” Aang greeted. His robot swiftly found a spot on the counter, which Zuko only could assume happened because Aang had gotten tired of lugging it around. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Katara said, a smile sitting on her lips. She still looked as put together as she did whenever he had seen her that morning. He didn’t know many girls who could do that. 

“Yeah, uh-” Zuko said, his hand wrung the back of his neck out of nervous habit. “This is my uncle’s shop, actually.” 

“No way you’re Iroh’s nephew.” Toph shook her head. 

“Well…” Zuko’s voice trailed off. His gaze shifted to Sokka, who was all-too focused on the dumb comments the rest of the football team was seeming to make behind him than looking at Zuko. 

“Toph!” Iroh greeted from behind him. Toph’s face lit up with a grin as she pushed past all of the people behind the group to the edge of the counter, to where she began chatter with his uncle. 

A highly confused look swept across Zuko’s face, and everyone else’s, too. There was only a brief pause in the conversation whilst everyone attempted to figure out  _ what in the world  _ was happening, but it seemed to resume almost as quickly as it had begun. 

“This is so sick, dude!” Sokka commented, now fully engaged in their conversion at the counter. Zuko noted the football guys attempting to get his attention from behind him, but Sokka paid no attention to them. They seemed to get the memo at some point that he was busy, and went back to jesting each other. “We love this place. We come here  _ all  _ the time.”

“Does this mean we get discounts now, maybe?” Aang asked, his eyes lighting up in an excited expression. Katara rolled her eyes and slapped her palm against her forehead, apparently a common occurrence in their relationship, he had noted. 

“I’ll talk to my uncle about that,” Zuko commented, a soft laugh escaping from his lips. He knew his uncle would be over the moon about giving discounts to his newfound friends- anything that meant that they’d keep coming back. 

“Well, I would love to stay and talk but I don’t want us to hold up the line,” Katara said with a laugh. 

“Right,” Zuko said, a smile forming on his lips. He quickly took their orders and moved on to the next people, and eyed them as they found a table off to the side to wait for their drinks. 

An elated feeling bubbled from his toes to his head. Even outside of school they wanted to be friends with him- and that was something exciting. 

As he took the next couple of orders, he caught the glimpse of his uncle as he conversed with Toph. He gave Zuko the nod of encouragement- like he already knew, as if it wasn’t clear as day who the boy he liked was. 

Well,  _ liked  _ was a strong word, right? It had been a day- one day. He knew that Sokka was attractive and nice to look at, that was for sure. But he didn’t know enough to  _ like  _ him. Not yet, at least. 

Zuko watched as the group’s orders slid across the counter towards them. Zuko’s heart sank briefly, knowing that they’d end up drinking up what they ordered and then leaving, while Zuko would be here… working. 

“Take the drinks to your friends, I’ve got it from here.” A light hand patted him on his shoulder to pair with the voice of his uncle. He smiled briefly and slid away from the register. He filled up his arms with their drinks, and pushed himself out from behind the counter. Slowly, he walked over to their table- loud and boisterous, but carefree and having fun, which much resembled the lunch table from earlier today. It overwhelmed him, but it also made him buzz with excitement that they had so much to talk about. 

“Here’s your drinks,” Zuko said, and put them down gingerly on the table in front of them. Aang’s eyes lit up like a firecracker as he fought through grabbing hands to grab his drink first. The drinks had found their owners almost instantaneously after he had placed them on the table, and a warm wave washed over his body as he saw them enjoy his uncle’s specialty drinks. 

“Here, we have an extra chair,” Katara said. And gestured across the table to the seat next to a distracted Sokka, who was turned to the table behind them talking football plays with his team. 

Unsure of what other social gesture would be even remotely acceptable, he slid into the chair beside Sokka. He could already feel his heart rate picking up just from the sound of his laugh. He was close enough to be able to smell a subtle scent of coconut mixed with something he couldn’t quite place his finger on. 

Zuko had only been sitting down for a mere moment, but Sokka’s eyes glanced over at him, and he quickly ended the conversation with the football players behind them and joined back with the group. 

“So, Zuko,” Katara said. She paused for a moment and took a sip of her drink, and then continued. “Kind of a weird question, but have you always lived here? Like, in Republic City, I mean?”  
The question took Zuko off guard for a second. It didn’t ever cross his mind that his personal life would have to be discussed. Especially not on the same day of successfully scoring friends. 

He tugged on the hem of his green apron, picking at the logo on the bottom corner rick conroe with his fingers. “I, uh,” Zuko began. He debated on what all of his past to tell them. “I used to live on the outskirts, I guess. But yeah, I’ve always lived  _ here _ .” 

It wasn’t necessarily wrong, but he didn’t have to explain anything else because as soon as he said that, Aang’s drink spilled all over the table. Unfazed, he laughed, and ran to go and get napkins. Katara gave him the most dramatic eye-roll that could probably only be beat by Azula. 

“I have a mop and stuff, if you want,” Zuko offered, already beginning to stand up. Aang, who had returned from getting an armful of napkins and paper towels from their countertop, shook his head and waved him off. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I can fix it,” He replied, and shot a carefree smile his way. 

“In case you’re wondering,” Sokka muttered from beside him. His voice took Zuko off-guard, as if he wasn't expecting Sokka to even acknowledge him more than he already had- at least not one on one. Even it happening during the school day was a feat to him. “Aang is  _ always  _ like this. Not much phases that kid.” 

“Oh,” Zuko said, a laugh escaping his lips. He glanced over at Sokka, who had propped himself up on his forearms, his drink loosely held in his right hand while his left drummed softly against the tabletop. “Really?”  
“Yeah,” Sokka said, agreeing with him with a head shake in disbelief. “His heart rate never rises, he’s always the most collected and laid back out of all of us. It has to do with his buddhism, but it’s still pretty incredible that he rarely ever gets hot-headed about _anything_.” 

“I wish I could be like that,” Zuko replied, hoping that his slight attempt at humor would land right with Sokka. He didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

His heart soared as Sokka chuckled softly from beside him with a slight shake of his head. “Me too, right? Anyways, how’s the AP calc homework coming? Since you’re here I could help you right now.” 

“It hasn’t left my bag, really,” Zuko answered sheepishly, “but I can get it.” 

Zuko had begun to study Sokka again while they talked. His hair was still pulled up from what he had remembered it looking like all day, and what he had-

_ Oh no. The drawing _ . 

“A-actually,” Zuko began to cover. “I think I left it in my, uh, uncle’s car and-”

“Oh that’s chill, dude.” Sokka took a sip of his drink and waved him off in a much similar fashion as Aang had done only a couple of minutes prior. He assumed that it was because they were so close that their mannerisms were so similar. “I didn’t want to do AP calc work right now anyways, so I’m glad you said that.” 

A phone was bumed against Zuko’s arm, and he looked up at Katara, who had slid her phone across the table to him. What was pulled up was a brand new contact file. 

“We want to add you to the group chat,” She said with a smile. Zuko smiled, and quickly typed in his name and number. He hoped that he didn’t make any mistakes due to his excitement, and slid the phone back to Katara. 

He had only ever been on one groupchat before, and that was with his sister, and two girls that he had grown up with. They put him on there for pity, his sister had made sure to tell him that. With the eagerness in Katara’s voice, it seemed like hopefully this wouldn't be like that. 

They talked as a group for only a few more minutes before Katara’s alarm went off. She groaned a little bit and began to pack up her things, the group following in suit. 

“Looks like that’s our que,” Katara said. “I have to go home and make dinner for dad and Gran-Gran and the two of you.” She looked interchangeable between Sokka and Aang. 

Sokka held his hands up as if in defense for something. “I always offer to make food, and you always say ‘no, Sokka, I have it. Thank you for being the most amazing brother in the world for offering, but it can do it,’' Sokka mimicked. 

“No,” Katara curtly shut down, and shook her head once. “You just don’t know how to work anything.” 

“Hey! At least I can make seaweed noodles, right? That has to count for something.” 

“Sokka, literally even Aang can make them.” 

“Fine! Fine, apparently my accomplishments don’t matter then,” Sokka jested, a playful pout forming on his face briefly. Once they packed up, they waved their goodbyes to Zuko. 

The rush had successfully died down, and he felt bad for leaving the work all up to his uncle, but he was also left feeling so many feelings after seeing them- his friends? Going-to-be friends? Acquaintances who didn’t look at him weirdly? The thing that he was feeling the most, though? 

_ Calm _ . 

“You ready to leave, nephew?” Iroh asked as he dropped the wet rag that he had used to clean off the appliances into the bucket to use for the next day. 

Zuko nodded in reply, and took his sketchbook, which he had been on and off attempting to draw in since the group had left. He had caught maybe one or two good things to add to his sketchbook when the line had dwindled. He had gotten pretty good at drawing boba tea cups and packs of sugar, but he had also attempted to get better at drawing people. 

He grabbed his backpack, and felt a continuous buzzing coming from inside the front pocket of the deep blue bag. He dropped his bag to the ground and pulled out his phone to find at least fifty or so texts from a group chat called ‘THE GAANG!’ There were a bunch of unknown numbers, but by the name, he could tell that it was his very-quickly formed friends. 

He let out almost a laugh of disbelief, which caught the attention of Iroh. Zuko half-expected Iroh to make a comment on it, or say something, but instead Iroh just gave him one of his usual reassuring smiles and began to grab his things, tidying up the last few items to get ready for opening the following morning. 

**Unknown number:** oh Zuko probs doesn’t know who anyone is LOL this is sukiiii :) 

**Unknown number:** katara! 

**Unknown number:** aang :P

**Unknown number:** Toph

**Unknown number:** sokkaaaa

**Suki:** did you add extra letters to the end of ur name bc I did? Too cute

**Sokka:** no I wanted to be different :( 

Zuko didn’t type anything in the chat for a minute. He just watched as the texts came through, continuing on. He could barely keep up with the humor and the wittiness. He bit his lip and took a few deep breaths in attempts to remind himself to not get overwhelmed. It was all so new; exciting, but new. But overall, he felt a elated buzz.

His phone didn’t stop buzzing as they walked back through the empty street to Iroh’s car. The sun was setting in a way to where the sky was glittered in hues of purples and blues and pinks. 

Zuko left his phone upturned on his thigh and pulled out his sketchbook and used a spare set of dulled colored pencils that he had in his bag and mimicked the hues of the sky onto the paper. 

“I’m glad you're happy, Zuko,” Iroh said softly on their way home. “And it’s only the first day.” 

Zuko smiled. “Yeah.” 

The pair had decided that takeout was the best option to celebrate the first day. It was the first day of the start of everything- a new beginning, one that would hopefully be better for him. He promised himself that this time he could finally be himself- it would be safe, it would be healthy, and he wouldn’t have to hide who he was anymore. 

Usually, Iroh would have no problem cooking, but today was a special occasion, and they both felt like it was a great way to end the day. 

Sometimes- actually, most of the time- they ate together in the small living room space in their townhouse, with some kind of movie on and sitting cross-legged, sandwiched between the couch and the coffee table. It had been something they had done since Zuko had moved in- a way for him to not be left alone when it turned night. 

But, things had gotten a little bit better since then. He still liked to do that with Iroh, though, as a way to still be connected to him (as if his uncle would ever leave him). 

Tonight, though, Zuko had too much work for him to sit down and watch a movie. As much as his heart tugged to keep him with his uncle, he also had calc homework that wasn’t even started, and a myriad of other assignments that he was thrown throughout the day so that he would be caught up. Not to mention that Zuko had never been an insanely fast worker, not like Azula. 

Things tended to come easier to her, his sister. She had medal after medal, was put on pedestal after pedestal. They had no idea who she truly was- not the student body, not his dad. The only person who seemed to see that was his mother, but that hadn’t mattered in years. 

“Goodnight, uncle.” He gave a soft smile as he padded up the stairs to his bedroom. Luckily, he left Iroh in good company of Guy Fieri’s  _ Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives _ , which seemed to be one of his all-time favorite shows. Iroh returned his goodnight to Zuko, but quickly turned his attention back to whatever it was Guy was taste testing. 

His phone hadn’t stopped buzzing, and at this point, he had wondered if they  _ ever  _ stopped talking. The groupchat with Mai, Ty Lee and Azula didn’t text this much. If they did, it was usually either an incredibly long paragraph, or two words, there really wasn’t an in-between. It wasn’t as overwhelming to him now as it was less than an hour ago, which he mentally patted himself on the back for. He still couldn’t exactly piece together what their conversation topic was considering it seemed to change so rapidly, but he was sure he’d be able to get the hang of all of that at some point. 

He flicked on the light to his room, a gradual illumination of his bare-carpeted blue space appeared, and although it wasn’t what he used to have, it was more of a home than what he had ever been given. Sure, he didn't have much, but Zuko didn’t need a lot to be happy. He had his drawings that he was proud of above his desk, some textbooks that were supposed to be preparing him for the SAT sitting promptly on a shelf, his desk, his nightstand with a tan lamp, and his twin-sized bed with a dark blue comforter. 

He liked that his window gave him a serene view, one that allowed him to watch headlights pass as neighbors left for work at the early hours of the morning, or to hear the birds when he woke up. 

He dropped his backpack by the foot of his bed, coming to the conclusion after a debate with himself that he’d much rather sit on his bed than attempt to sit at his desk this late. He slid off his sneakers using his heel and changed out of his pants into sweatpants and put on a black JASMINE DRAGON shirt that smelled like coffee and tea, but he loved it nonetheless. He had worn it so much since his uncle had given it to him that it was soft now. 

Zuko hoisted up his backpack and his barely full binders and tossed them around him, organizing them so he could work from one subject to the next. It was a little bit daunting, not having his father’s safety net there to catch him- but with his father, everything was a double-edged sword, and school was no exception. 

He still felt the ever-present buzzing, and noticed as his phone lit up for probably the millionth time another thread of texts that had come through: 

**Sokka:** how’s the calc work comin? 

The seemingly recurring feeling of heat rising from the tips of his toes to the top of his head continued, even though he wasn’t actually in front of him. Zuko leafed through his calc binder, examining his notes, his tutoring schedule, and his homework, which still sat down and with the sketch of Sokka sitting in the top corner where he had left it. 

_ I need to erase that _ , he thought.  _ That’s embarrassing.  _

He thought for a second, typing out a few replies before deciding on one that didn’t sound too weird. He wasn’t the best texter to say the least. 

**Zuko:** i haven’t started. 

He pressed send and dropped his phone beside him, and pulled out a pencil to begin erasing the drawing. Before he did, though, he snapped a quick picture of the drawing, it wasn’t anything spectacular or special- there just seemed to be something that made him want to keep it. But for obvious reasons, keeping it on his AP calc homework wasn’t an option. 

**Sokka:** totally get that- here, take these until we can talk about em :) 

**Sokka:** _ attachment: 14 photos _

**Zuko:** thank you 

He wished that maybe the conversation could have gone on longer, or that there was more to be said. 

But for the first time, in a really long time, Zuko fell asleep with a genuine smile on his face. 


End file.
